


How to Save a Life

by CaliBDiamond



Category: Iron Man - All Media Types, Marvel
Genre: Drama, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-05
Updated: 2013-02-05
Packaged: 2017-11-28 06:14:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/671206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaliBDiamond/pseuds/CaliBDiamond
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Syriana's ready to throw it all away, but Tony isn't going to let that happen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	How to Save a Life

Tony had been tinkering down in the workshop when he’d gotten the call from the front desk. There was someone heading up to his quarters. She’d seemed distressed, according to the man, and reeked of booze. This wasn’t anything new to Tony. Syri had been showing up at the Tower piss drunk quite a bit lately. If the billionaire was going to be honest, she seemed to be competing with him to see which of them could drink their weight in emotion and worry these days, and still stay standing. So, Tony had left his work for later, barely glancing at one of the halo-screens to check the time and stopping in his tracks when he saw how early it was. Syri never came by _before_ midnight, regardless of whether or not she’d been drinking. Blowing out a breath, the brunet ran a hand through his hair –instantly regretting it when he remembered he’d been working with things covered in motor oil- and made his way into the main room.

“Boss,” Happy stood in the doorway of the elevator, supporting a worse-for-wear Syriana, who looked drugged out of her mind. The fact that she couldn’t even seem to stand on her own was cause for concern in the billionaire, and he walked over with a questioning look on his face.

“What the hell is going on?” He asked, the question aimed at his driver as he waved a hand in front of Syri’s glassy looking eyes to catch her attention. It took a good ten seconds before she responded, her head moving slowly as she turned to look up at him.

“Not sure, Boss.” Happy shrugged, grunting as he readjusted the woman slumped against his side. “She was wandering around outside. She won’t tell me what she’s on. Said she wanted to see you, but the front desk wouldn’t let her up without her pass.”

“Christ, remind me to fire that bastard,” Tony muttered, moving to reach out and take Syri from Happy. He grunted when the brunette latched onto him and buried her face against his side. Sighing, the billionaire looked back to Happy and jerked his head. “Get me some water, will you? And an ice bucket. She looks pretty tanked and I don’t want her throwing up all over the place.”

“Sure,” Nodding, Happy gave Syriana one last look before he wandered off to get the requested items.

“JARVIS, I need you to keep an eye on her vitals. Let me know if anything looks… out of place.”

 _Of course, sir_.

“Right,” scooping Syri up into his arms, Tony carried her to the bedroom, frowning as she groaned and lifted her head to look at him. Forcing a smile, he settled her on his lap when he sat on the bed and brushed the hair out of her eyes. “Hey princess. What’s going on?”

“I can’t do it, Tony.” Syri slurred, closing her eyes as she rested her cheek against his shoulder. “I can’t take it anymore.”

“Can’t take what, Syri?” Taking the water and bucket from Happy when the man came into the room, Tony waved him out silently, shooting him a look that urged the driver to stay close by in case this was a serious emergency.

“Everything, Tony. It all hurts so much…” The brunette’s dark, heavy lidded eyes seemed to stay trained on the reactor in Tony’s chest, her fingers coming up to brush over the cotton dimmed light. “I have nothing left.”

“That’s bullshit,” Reaching behind him to tap the surface of his glass-top nightstand, Tony quickly typed in a search for Syriana’s symptoms, knowing the woman wasn’t going to tell him straight up what she’d done to herself. “You have Steve. And your job. And me. You have me, Syri.”

Shaking her head slowly, Syri traced the pattern of the reactor, letting her hand drop heavily into her lap. “Then why do I feel so alone?”

Tony didn’t have an answer for that. Looking back at the woman to take in the almost grey color of her face, he frowned. “What did you take, Syri?”

Another slow shake of her head was the brunette’s answer. Just as he suspected, she wasn’t about to give herself up just yet. Frustrated, Tony turned back to the screen on the table and scanned the list of symptoms he was looking at for a drug overdose. As his eyes searched for an answer, he wracked his brains to try and remember the list of drugs Syriana was currently taking.

“I don’t feel good,” Syri said finally, trying weakly to pull herself upright in Tony’s arms. “Why haven’t I fallen asleep yet?”

“You’re _not_ falling asleep, princess. Not on my watch.” Reaching for the bucket Happy had brought to him, Tony settled it in Syri’s lap and took a deep breath before gently grasping her jaw. “ _Don’t_ bite my fingers.”

Before Syri could ask what the hell he meant by that statement, Tony crammed his oil-stained fingertips down the back of her throat. She gagged once, clenching her eyes shut and reaching up to try and push his hand away. But Tony was persistent. Frowning hard, he jerked his hand away when the actions finally produced the desired result, and the brunette began emptying the contents of her stomach into the bucket.

“Ugh,” Turning his head away as she retched, Tony ran his hand up and down her back until the spasms were over. Taking the bucket away when he was sure she wasn’t going to gag anymore, the brunet grunted at the weak slap that hit his jaw.

“Bastard,” the slur seemed worse now, but it was nowhere near as bad as her breath. “Fuck you.”

“Fuck you too, sweetheart.” Tony snapped back, feeling anger starting to build up inside of him. He was pissed that she’d do this to him. They’d _promised_ to call each other if they felt this way, and Syriana had gone and taken pills. What kind of pills, he wasn’t sure of. What had been upchucked into the bucket was hard to decipher, but there was definitely more than the recommended daily dose in there. Finally finding enough sense to wipe his hand off on his jeans, Tony moved to pick Syri up and take her into the bathroom, but the little woman resisted.

“Put me down,” she growled, glaring up at him as she tried to twist away. “Just leave me alone.”

“No way.” With a little more force than he should have used, Tony pinned her tight against him and got to his feet. “JARVIS, stats, please.”

_Heart rate is a bit irregular, and her body temperature is climbing. I would suggest a cold bath._

“Two steps ahead of you, buddy.” Carrying the struggling woman into the master bath, Tony didn’t have to bother reaching into the tub to turn the taps on. JARVIS did it for him without prompt and in the back of his mind, he made a note to tell Pepper that the idea to make the plumbing pretty much automated had been far more useful than she’d predicted. Sitting down on the edge of the tub, Tony stood Syri up on her wobbly legs and proceeded to try and strip her down, ignoring the smacks and cursing she threw out in return. He was going to get her into that tub even if he had to crawl in and pin her to the bottom of it.

“Stop!” Managing to get hold of Tony’s thick hair, the brunette pulled at it and gasped sharply when the man stood up, grabbing her wrists tightly in both of his hands before he gave her a little shake.

“ _Knock it off_ ,” he growled, jolting her again as his anger started to peak. “Syriana, Goddammit. You came to _me_. You brought this into _my_ house. If you wanted to die so fucking badly, you should have stayed home. Now, be a good girl and _hold the fuck still_.”

Syri fell silent after that, complying to his requests for her to step out of her pants and her underwear, and staying perfectly still when he took her shirt and bra off. Looking back up at him when he paused to check the depth of the water in the tub, the brunette swallowed hard and tried to take a step back. “You’re mad at me…”

Tony whipped his head around to look at her, an unreadable expression on his face. “Hell yes, I’m mad at you, Syriana! I can’t believe you’re doing this to me! How _selfish_ are you?”

“ _Me_ , selfish? Look who’s talking!”

“What did we promise each other, Syri?” Tony snapped, trying to keep his temper from getting out of control. “We promised that we would call if we needed someone. _You did not call me_. You went straight to the first bottle of pills you could find!”

As she stood there shaking her head at him, her face started to crumple and turn red. Tugging her wrists out of his grasp, she shouted as she fell back against the hard tile floor and curled up in her spot. “I want my Daddy. _I WANT MY DADDY!_ ”

Tony had to try so hard not to shout back at her that her father was _dead_ and he wasn’t going to be able to help her. Instead, he walked over and tugged her to her feet none too gently, and half dragged her kicking and screaming over to the tub.

_Sir,_

“Not now, JARVIS.” Toeing off his shoes, Tony took his wallet and phone out of his pocket before picking Syri up to set her in the cold water. As expected, the brunette put up quite a fight when the water shocked her skin, and Tony didn’t bother ridding himself of his clothing as he got in behind her and wrapped his arms around her tight. She was burning up, he noticed, and was struggling too hard for him to splash any of the water on her. “JARVIS, showerhead.”

The sharp gasp that left Syri’s throat the moment the cold spray hit her cut through her shouting. But the water did nothing to keep her from trying to twist out of Tony’s grip.

“ _Stop_.” He hissed in her ear, tightening his arms around her so hard, he was surprised she didn’t throw up. “Just _stop_ , Syriana.”

Reduced to a pile of tears and weak tugs to try and get herself free, Syri sank back against Tony’s chest and cried. “I don’t want to do this anymore. It’s not fair. Why did it have to be them? Why not me?”

“We don’t get to choose who lives and who dies, princess.” Tony said in a thick voice, loosening his grip when it was clear that Syri was past the point of trying to escape again. “Doesn’t work that way.”

“I want to die, Tony. I wish I had. That day, with Jesse, I wish—”

“Princess,” The older man didn’t know what to say. He was so upset and confused. He had no idea what had happened to spur this on, and he knew she wasn’t going to tell him. He couldn’t cry, but he wanted to. For the first time in a long time, he just wanted to break down and let it all out. Instead, he buried his face against the back of her neck, holding her to him and rubbing his hands up and down her arms. There was no telling how long they sat there like that before JARVIS finally chimed in that Syri’s body temperature seemed to have regulated. Muttering a command for the AI to shut the water off, Tony carefully got to his feet, pulling Syri out of the tub and gently instructing her to stay put when he sat her down beside it.

The brunette watched him as he grabbed a few towels and quickly took off his sodden clothes to exchange them for a robe. Taking down another one, he brought it to her and knelt beside her to help dry her off. Neither of them said anything to the other; there really wasn’t much to be said. When Syri was dry and dressed in the robe, Tony picked her up again and brought her back into his bedroom. The billionaire took a few minutes to rearrange the pillows so he could sit up with her in his lap, and offered the bottle of water to her when she muttered something about her throat being sore.

“I’m tired.” Syri said finally, looking up at Tony.

“JARVIS?”

_Heart rate is regular. Body temperature is regular. Vital signs appear to be normal._

Sighing, Tony turned and pressed a kiss to the side of the younger woman’s head, running his fingers through her wet hair. “I’ll stay right here with you, Syri. You won’t be alone. I swear.”

“Tony?” Reaching for the older man’s hand, Syri laced her fingers with his, giving them a squeeze.

“Hm?”

“Do you hate me?”

The billionaire mulled the question over for a few minutes before he shook his head and kissed her temple again. “No.”

“You should.”

“I know I should. But I don’t.” Still petting her hair, Tony sighed. “Sleep. It’s all right.”

“I’m sorry.” The brunette’s voice cracked a little as she tucked her head against the crook of his neck and settled against him snugly. Tony didn’t respond. It was another one of those things he just didn’t know _how_ to respond to. So, instead, he just cradled her close and settled in for a long night of waiting for all of this to pass.

As the hours ticked by, he constantly questioned why Syriana hadn’t just called him instead of swallowing down the pills and whatever booze it was she’d managed to get a hold of. What had caused the woman, who had been doing so well lately, to just break like this? If there was ever a time he wished he had the power to see into someone’s head, now was it. But he was afraid that whatever he found would make him angrier than he already was. Sure, he didn’t hate her for this, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t pissed off. In the bathroom, he’d really wanted to slap her and ask her just what the fuck she thought she was doing. Trying to take herself out like that and leave him all alone, _God_ , it burned him up.

Thumping his head against the wall behind him, the billionaire tried like hell to get the questions to stop whirling around in his brain. He couldn’t take it anymore. All it made him want to do was give the girl a piece of her own medicine. But he couldn’t do that. He’d tried suicide in the past, and he always seemed to get too scared to actually go through with it. The pills were always vomited up before they had time to settle; the noose never tightened enough to do more damage than leave a rope burn on his neck the next day. It was like some unseen force had been there to stop him every single time. Honestly, he would have preferred a flesh and blood person to talk him down from the ledge. Maybe that’s why he was so upset. Syriana was taking for granted that there were people who cared enough to actually _be_ there for her when she needed it. She had it easy in so many ways, and Tony was horribly jealous of that.

When the thought of _what if I hadn’t been there?_ crossed his mind, Tony was almost too scared of the answer to let the idea form at all. If he hadn’t been here tonight, if he’d been out on the town like he’d planned to be, he had no doubt in his mind that he would have lost her. Another friend would have exited from his life, but this time, there would be no coming back. He’d had plenty of people walk out, only to walk back in later on. But if Syri had actually managed to complete what she’d attempted…

“Fuck,” rubbing a hand over his tired face, Tony looked around and sighed again. “JARVIS. TV. I don’t care what channel. Just turn it on.”

 _Yes, sir_.

Looking to the giant flat screen hung up on the wall in front of the bed, Tony did his best to let the shitty late night television take him away from the terrible thoughts for a little while. He never actually meant to fall asleep.

X+X+X+X

Tony woke with a start to the sound of a crash from the other room, to find himself completely alone. Syri had slipped out of the bed, and he had no idea where she had gone. Getting up from his spot, he rushed as fast as he could to the source of the sound and found the brunette crouching in the kitchen trying to pick up pieces of a broken plate. Her hands shook as they plucked up bits of china, and Tony breathed a silent sigh of relief before walking over.

“What are you doing?”

The younger woman jumped a mile, falling back and smacking her head on one of the cupboards. Letting out a colorful string of curses, she rubbed the back of her head and glanced to the mess she’d made sheepishly. “…I was hungry.”

“I’m surprised you’re up and about.” Tony crossed the room and knelt to pick up the broken plate, tossing it in the trash. “After last night, I was sure you’d be lying in bed all day.”

“Tony,” Syri’s voice took on an almost embarrassed tone, and she avoided his eyes at all costs. “I…”

“You had me scared shitless, princess,” The older man told her, helping her to her feet. “I’m still upset with you.”

“I don’t know what to say to that.”

“You could tell me what the fuck you thought you were doing, for starters.” Eyeing her, Tony reached out to close the robe the brunette wore, tightening the belt around her slim waist.

“I don’t…” shaking her head, Syri sank against the counter and rubbed her face with a hand. “I had a bad moment.”

“That was one hell of a bad moment, princess. You’re going to have to do better than that.”

“I don’t have an answer, Tony. I don’t know what I was thinking, or what I was doing. I was just so upset…” Shrugging lightly, the younger woman squeezed her eyes shut and rubbed at her stomach. “Did you shove your hand down my throat last night?”

“Be happy I didn’t punch you in the gut like I wanted to.” He muttered, moving around her to grab a few bowls from a cupboard, along with a box of cereal. He wasn’t hungry, truthfully, but maybe food would settle the anger still boiling in his stomach. “You were a handful and a half.”

“I had a panic attack, I think.” Syri mumbled, moving out of the way. “I was just sitting in the apartment, and I don’t know what came over me.”

“You’re making an appointment with your psychologist. No arguing, either.” Waving a spoon at the brunette, Tony shot her a dark look and then turned away to pour cereal into both bowls.

Syri could only stare at him. Whatever had happened last night during her little blackout must’ve been serious. Tony never suggested that she see her shrink. In fact, if anything, he almost encouraged her to avoid the man because he believed all he had to say was a bunch of bullshit. Taking in a deep breath, she nodded slowly and wrapped her arms around herself, keeping quiet as she watched him get the milk from the refrigerator. Thanking him when he’d pushed the bowl over to her, Syriana just stared at it for a few seconds. Without a word, she pushed away from the counter and moved to wrap her arms around the older man. Burying her face against his chest, she squeezed his middle and let out a soft little sob.

“I’m sorry,” she swallowed hard, squeezing tighter. “I’m so sorry, Tony.”

Tony stood still as a marble statue, just chewing his food as he contemplated a reaction. Finally, he pushed the bowl aside and wrapped his arms around the smaller woman, heaving a sigh. “Don’t you _ever_ do anything like that to me again, De Luca. I swear to God, I’ll kill you myself if you pull that shit ever again.”

Nodding at him, Syri clutched at the back of his robe, unable to speak any more. She knew what she’d done wasn’t okay, and it wasn’t fair to Tony at all. If there was some way that she could take it all back, she would. She didn’t like knowing that she’d upset him so badly. In fact, she kind of hated herself for it. Looking up when she felt him kiss the top of her head, Syri studied the man’s tired face and then rested her cheek to his chest once more. There was nothing more either of them could say. No words of comfort for one another, no reassurance that this would never happen again. Words alone wouldn’t prove it, anyhow. Syriana was just going to have to prove to Tony that she wasn’t ever going to put him through that again.

“Eat,” Tony said after a long while, brushing her off of him. “I’ll have JARVIS call the Quack. I need to clean up the mess in the bedroom.”

“Tony?” Syri called when the man had started to leave the room.

“What?” Looking back over his shoulder, he raised an eyebrow.

“Thank you.” Licking her lips, Syri fiddled with the spoon on the counter and sighed. “For not letting me die.”

“If you think you’re going to leave that easily, De Luca, you’re far more insane than I thought.” Tony muttered back, turning to walk out of the room.

 


End file.
